A Peculiar Comfort
by digthewriter
Summary: ONE-SHOT: Harry's world is loud and busy. The only time he feels like he can breathe is when he's in Draco's company, and even that relationship seems to be changing.


****Disclaimer**: **Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>A Peculiar Comfort<strong>

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><p>Harry checked his pocket watch again. It had only been ten minutes since the last time he'd checked it. He looked up and tried to join in on the conversation around the Weasley's dining table, but he couldn't focus, because Ginny was looking at him <em>that<em> way again and Hermione had an eyebrow raised. Great, she'd noticed too.

He eagerly waited for eleven o'clock, when it wasn't "still too early" for him to request his leave. Five years since the war, and it's like he was seventeen still.

He wasn't even sure what they were talking about anymore. Was it Quidditch? Or had they moved on to the latest gossip in the _Prophet_? Oh right, Ginny's new boyfriend, whom she still hadn't brought around. Harry wasn't sure if it was a real boyfriend or if she was using to try and make Harry jealous. She'd done it before...

Didn't she understand that he wouldn't be jealous? Didn't anybody understand that? He was _gay_.

He remembered being very adamant about it when he came out of the closet. First to the Weasleys, then to the rest of the wizarding world by giving an interview in the _Prophet_. But it seemed as if they were still hoping he was straight or at least bi.

Fools.

That's what Draco assumed anyway.

Harry shook his head and tried to suppress his smile when he thought about Draco's opinions of his present company. Harry didn't understand how someone could be so sour, yet be so amazingly lovable at the same time. So loveable that he made Harry forget to breathe sometimes.

He looked away from the fireplace and tried to pay attention to the conversation again. Had they actually got louder? Was that even possible?

He shook his head and stood up abruptly causing the conversation to come to a screeching halt. Well, it was now or never, so Harry just smiled softly and nodded. The lot looked him over for one second, and as Mrs Weasley seemed to be passed out on the sofa chair, she wouldn't harass him to stay longer or spend the night. Everyone else looked away from him and the rumbling started again.

Harry sighed with relief and made his way to the door. He needed to get the hell out before Ginny, or worse, Hermione stopped him. It wasn't like he didn't love them; he did. And he appreciated everything they did for him, but there were times he wanted to be alone and they just somehow never allowed that. They didn't grow up in solitary, so they never really appreciated it, and Harry couldn't believe that he sometimes missed that. He missed just being around people yet not talking. He didn't miss being ignored, that was for sure, but he missed the quiet. He missed just laying on his bed and thinking.

That was why he loved Draco. Draco gave him that; he gave Harry the silence and the company. He was sure he could've had that with Ginny, even if he weren't gay. But Harry never vocalized _that_ sentiment, especially because he didn't want to get tossed out on the street on his arse by Draco. Regardless of his cool persona, Harry knew how insecure Draco was about her.

Half eleven, and Harry found himself walking slowly toward Draco's flat. He wasn't supposed to show up there tonight. It was Friday, and on Fridays he usually just went home after visiting with the Weasleys, but tonight, Harry couldn't even think of an excuse. He just wanted to see Draco.

He walked slowly in the darkness, taking in the quiet of the night. He smiled as he walked by a house and saw a couple sitting at their dining room table in candlelight. He stopped for just a moment to look in; they weren't speaking, just drinking wine and staring at each other lovingly. Harry walked away, giving them the privacy they were entitled to.

Two knocks in, and the door opened abruptly. Draco had an eyebrow raised and Harry just shrugged. He opened the door completely and allowed Harry to enter. Harry kicked off his shoes and crossed his legs on Draco's sofa. He felt Draco's warmth on the seat and saw the _Prophet_ folded up on the coffee table.

Draco came to the sitting room with a mug of tea in hand and placed it in front of Harry as he picked up the paper. He didn't ask for his seat back but simply sat at the other edge of the sofa. Two minutes later, Harry's head was resting in Draco's lap and he caressed Harry's hair as he continued to read.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. He was restless. He didn't want to _sleep_; he was too riled up. When he opened his eyes, Draco was looking down at him. He separated a section of the _Prophet_ and handed the _Sports_ section to Harry. When Harry looked up at him and grinned, Draco leaned down to kiss the top of his forehead.

Such affection was rare and Harry couldn't help but bite his lower lip. Draco shook his head and returned his attention to the _Fine Dining _column. Draco's hand remained in Harry's hair and eventually he noticed the ruggedness with which Draco had started to tug on his locks.

A few moments later, he saw the hunger in Draco's eyes and Harry was glad that he'd decided to stop by after all. He all but threw the paper on the coffee table and sat up to look at Draco at eye-level.

Draco's gaze moved from Harry's eyes to his lips, then back up to his eyes. Harry grabbed the back of Draco's neck and pulled him in for a kiss, biting his lower lip so hard that he was sure that Draco would wail. But nothing of the sort happened. Draco gave into Harry's kiss, his embrace. Harry felt as if they were melting together, the heat of their bodies dissolving them into one.

Harry continued to kiss Draco as he started to unbutton Draco's shirt, and Draco pulled Harry's jumper off him. This wasn't what he'd come for. He'd only come because he wanted to be able to be around someone without requiring to talk. He hoped that Draco wouldn't have taken his actions the wrong way. He didn't want Draco to think Harry was using him.

Before Harry had a chance to stop them, to pull Draco back into a soft and loving kiss, to _show_ him that he was okay with just the tender moment they had been sharing before, Draco had Harry pinned down under him.

His trousers were pulled down to his ankles and he arched up when Draco placed his warm hands on his erection. Draco started to stroke him gently, and when Harry tried to reach down to Draco's cock, he yanked Harry's hand away. A moment later, Draco was fully on top of him, grinding their erections together and sucking viciously on Harry's neck, his teeth deeply buried in. It was definitely going to leave a mark.

Harry did the only thing he could do with his free hands; he grabbed Draco's arse. He squeezed it tightly and pulled Draco up, adding more friction to the already overwhelming sensation on his groin. Draco lifted his lips from Harry's skin as his breath hitched with surprise, and they both came nearly in unison.

Draco immediately straightened up and grabbed his wand. After he'd cleaned himself, Harry's chest, and the sofa of any remnants for their act, he dressed himself and returned to his side of the sofa and started to read the paper again.

Harry, naked, spent, _and _confused looked at Draco. Harry wasn't sure what had just happened. This was far from normal for them. Draco barely _kissed_ Harry out of the bedroom, let alone rub on him raw on the sofa like that.

And then, he was just acting so—

Draco turned to look at him and read the confused look on Harry's face. He shrugged at Harry, rolling his eyes at the same time and returned his attention to the paper.

More befuddled than before, Harry just shook his head and got dressed as well. He grabbed the _Sports_ section again and sat at the other edge of the sofa. He stared at the paper for a while, not really reading it, when he felt Draco edge close to him. A second later, Draco placed his head in Harry's lap; his hand had started to caress Harry's leg.

When Draco stopped, Harry looked down at him to ask a question. He couldn't though, as Draco's even breaths were accompanied by a gentle snore.

Harry smiled to himself, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. He didn't want to wake Draco, so he just stayed very still as sleep took over him as well.

They had become _that_ kind of a couple, and it was peculiarly comforting.

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><p><strong>THE END<strong>

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading<strong>


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